My son
by Lillei
Summary: Craig,” he repeated and there was a shrill whistle through the air as the words came crashing down against his skin. “You are just like me.”


_Running, running, running, he couldn't escape. No matter where he turned **his** face was still there, always in front of him, around every corner, behind every sign. The road was empty but he couldn't escape from those dark piercing eyes, the glasses and doctor suit, his stern voice and his lashing hand. No matter where Craig turned, no matter what road he took, there **he** was, ready and lash out. _

_He tried to run before he could say anything, but always, always, one or two of his words floated to him. They were mean words, enduring words, kind words, well-meaning words, but they were all **poison** no matter what their tone. _

_Each word turned into a whip that lashed across his body and his soul and he couldn't escape, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't escape. _

_And then he ran into the hospital and their **he** was again, staring at him. He couldn't move, not even his eyes, they were trained on **him**. _

_"Craig," **he** said, and the word left a gash across his face. "Craig…I love you." _

_"No, no, no, no, no, no!" _

_"Craig," **he** repeated and there was a shrill whistle through the air as the words came crashing down against his skin. "You are just like me."_

_No, no, no, no, no, no! _

_"Haven't you lashed out before, Craig?" _

_No, no, no, no, no, no! _

_"I'm bipolar!" He gasped. "Bipolar!" _

_"So was I, Craig-o."_

_No, no, no, no, no, no! _

_"You attacked Joey," and the words turned into a whip of stones that caused him to double over and cry out. He was bruised and bleeding and broken and he couldn't get up._

_"You're dead, you're dead!"_

_He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, dead, dead, dead, dead!_

_"But Craig. I live on in you." _

_No, no, no, no, no, no! _

_"No, no, no, no, no, no!" _

_"You are me. Joey is dead, Craig. And it's time for you to join me too."_

"No, no, no, no!"

Joey, startled, jumped a bit from the hard plastic chair he was sitting on. He looked over at Craig, asleep in his chair as they waiting to get in to see the doctor. His face hurt and the bruises were swollen, but Joey couldn't be mad at Craig. And his pitiful plea of negativity touched Joey so that he forgot his pain and shook Craig's shoulder.

"Craig," he said. "C'mon, Craig buddy, wake up!" Craig jerked from his dream world and gazed at Joey, not seeming to recognize him. He jerked again, and scrambled from Joey. There were tears in his eyes.

"No, Craig, buddy. C'mere, C'mere," Joey attempted to put his arms around Craig.

"I'm sorry," Craig said through a clenched jaw, still sitting rigidly in Joey's embrace. "I'm sorry I killed you."

"Craig?"

"I'm sorry, okay! What more do you want?" Craig burst out, leaping up from his chair, pulling away briskly. At Joey's hurt face his own twisted in agony. "I'm sorry. I'm still doing it. Even now that we're…dead."

"Craig, sit down. Talk to me! What are you talking about?"

"We're dead, Joey."

"Craig, are you awake? Wake up!"

"We are…dead? Aren't we?"

"No, Craig. We're fine." Craig stared at him. His eyes were wide. He pulled back from Joey again, sinking to the floor, weak. Ultimately, he could not handle it. His arms circled his knees and his face became buried in his knees. He rocked back and forth, back and forth.

Joey watched his broken stepson, watched his pain seep from him in great gasps. He slid to the floor.

"We're getting help Craig, it's okay. It's okay."

"I'm sorry I killed you. Or…hurt you. If you're-we're-not dead."

"It's not your fault Craig. It wasn't you." Craig raised his head slightly. There was fear in his eyes.

"It was my dad, wasn't it? I'm…I'm just like him."

"No! No, Craig. Never. You are you. No one thinks you're like him."

"He does."

"_Who told you_ _that?_ Did _he_ tell you that?" Joey's voice shook.  
"He told me. Just now. I saw him."

"He's dead, Craig! He's dead!" Joey pushed back from him in reflex. Craig looked up at him. He looked so young. He looked so unlike himself. There was pain at the rejection in his eyes.

"Craig," Joey whispered, gathering himself back around him. "You…you are my son. _Mine_. You are wonderful and great and nothing like…him. Mine. You understand that?"

Craig sniffed and nodded. "Good. _My _son."

Craig stared at him through clearing eyes. He seemed to be waking from a place between dreams and life, where imagination still infiltrated into awakened actions. Joey hoped he still remembered what he'd said. Because he truly loved Craig as his own son. And more than anything, he wanted Craig to consider him his father.

Craig and Joey sat in silence as the world moved on around them. It was as if they were stuck in some kind of limbo, waiting for the final verdict. Itsuprised Craigwhen Joey grabbed him in a hug.

"I love you, my son," he whispered. "I love you."


End file.
